


Beginning of the End

by rauqthetommo



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Just restraints, Lovers, M/M, Rimming, Slight BDSM I guess, Teasing, Unprotected Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 23:15:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21677209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rauqthetommo/pseuds/rauqthetommo
Summary: This takes place between when Richie got his phone call from Mike and when everyone met at Jade of the Orient.After his phone call from Mike, memories of his childhood come flooding back to him. For the first time in nearly 30 years, he has a clear picture of one person in his mind--Eddie. He has his assistant, Martin, track him down, and flies to New York in an attempt to speak to him before the dinner that Mike planned.An excerpt from this work:Martin nodded and patted Richie’s knee sympathetically. “At least you’re back in town for tonight.”“Yeah,” Richie mumbled, staring out the window at the houses rolling by.He thought back to the phone call, the one just before his show. Mike had had to introduce himself twice. The first time “Mike Hanlon” hadn’t meant anything to him, but the second time the switch flipped and the floodgates opened. He almost hadn’t made it outside, he’d thrown up so fast. More memories came back, too. Ones of soft hair, pale skin, the steady clicking of an aspirator. “I need you to find someone,” Richie said, suddenly.“Uhm,” Martin blinked. “Ok. Who?”“His name is Edward Kaspbrak. Eddie.”
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 116





	Beginning of the End

“That was awful, Rich.” Martin sighed. 

“I know,” Richie leaned his head back against the headrest of the limo seat. 

“What happened? What was that phone call?”

Richie just shook his head, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes and rubbing. 

After he had forgotten the first joke in his act, the rest of the show bombed. He kept stuttering and stumbling his words, and he couldn’t remember any of his punch lines. He was lucky they didn’t boo him off the stage. 

“Let’s just get you home, Rich.” Martin said, nodding to the limo driver. 

“I’m sorry,” Richie sighed, sitting up in the seat. Martin was frowning at him. “It’s just been a rough week, I think. The tour is taking a lot out of me.”

Martin nodded and patted Richie’s knee sympathetically. “At least you’re back in town for tonight.”

“Yeah,” Richie mumbled, staring out the window at the houses rolling by.

He thought back to the phone call, the one just before his show. Mike had had to introduce himself twice. The first time “Mike Hanlon” hadn’t meant anything to him, but the second time the switch flipped and the floodgates opened. He almost hadn’t made it outside, he’d thrown up so fast. More memories came back, too. Ones of soft hair, pale skin, the steady clicking of an aspirator. “I need you to find someone,” Richie said, suddenly. 

“Uhm,” Martin blinked. “Ok. Who?”

“His name is Edward Kaspbrak. Eddie.”

Martin pulled his phone out of his pocket to make a note. “Kaspbrak.” He repeated. “How do you spell that?”

“K-A-S-P-B-R-A-K.” 

Martin nodded along with each letter. “What else?” 

“He’d be my age. He’s actually six months and four days younger than me.”

Martin raised his eyebrows at that, but didn’t say anything. He let all of the air in his lungs out of his mouth. “Anything else?”

Richie shrugged and shook his head. “No, nothing I can think of.” 

The limo pulled up to the curb outside of Richie’s condo. “I’ll do the best I can,” Martin said, slipping his phone back into his pocket. 

“Thank you,” Richie pushed himself out of the limo, climbing his front porch steps. 

“Try and get some rest, Rich.” Martin gently squeezed his upper arm before turning around and jogging back down the stairs towards the limo. “And maybe run some cold water on your face,” He advised, standing in the open car door, hand resting on top of the limo. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

***

The following morning, Richie sat at his dining room table, reading the paper and sipping his coffee. A plate of nearly untouched scrambled eggs and bacon sat in front of him. An incoming call displayed the name “Martin Gene” on his phone. “Hey,” Richie answered. 

“I found him,” Martin said, not bothering with pleasantries. 

“You did?” Richie set down his coffee and paper and sat forward, his hummingbird heart beating out of his chest. 

“Edward Kaspbrak. He’s 39 years old and lives in Manhattan.” 

“What does he do?”

“He’s a risk analyst.”

Richie smiled at that. How extremely Eddie. When they were kids, he’d always expected Eds to become a doctor or a lawyer or a business executive, but someone informing people of the many dangers that surrounded them seemed so much more appropriate. So much more Eddie. 

“Did you get that, Richie?” Martin asked. 

“No,” Richie blinked, completely unaware that Martin had continued talking. “What was it?”

“I was telling you his address.”

“Oh,” Richie stood and crossed the room to his breakfast nook. He grabbed a pen out of his decorative Superman cup and pulled an envelope out of an old pile of mail. “Go ahead.”

“955 South Carpol Street, Manhattan.”

Richie mouthed out the words as he wrote them down. “Ok, got it.”

“He lives there with his wife,” Martin said. 

Richie swallowed hard. _Wife_. It was a word he rarely ever heard. Or even used. He himself was unmarried, and so was Martin, the only other person he ever really spent time with. It, of course, made sense that Eds was married. Why wouldn’t he be? A grown man, nearly 40 years old, it would be weird if he wasn’t married. “Thanks, Martin.” Richie said, cramming the envelope into his pocket. 

“You’re not going to go there now, are you?” Martin asked. 

Richie barely heard him, he was already lost in the thoughts of his childhood. “I’ll talk to you later,” He said, far away. 

“At least let me—“ Martin was cut off by Richie hanging up the phone and jamming it in his robe pocket. He left his uneaten breakfast on the table and took the stairs two at a time up to his bedroom. 

***

Richie’s mind raced as he packed for his impromptu trip. He quickly grabbed clothes off of hangers and out of drawers and chucked them haphazardly into his suitcase. Very Richie. 

“Toothbrush,” He muttered, crossing his bedroom and into the master bath. He began grabbing his toiletries off of the counter, shoving them into a ziplock bag. 

When all of his bathroom supplies were collected, he looked at himself in the mirror.

Standing before him was a child. A young boy with curly black hair and glasses so magnified it made his eyes look like dinner plates. He was wearing dark khaki pants and an open button down covered in blue palm trees. He recognized the outfit immediately. He’d worn it the day they fought It. He thrown it in the garbage the second he’d gotten home. 

Richie struggled to swallow, staring into his own eyes. He blinked hard, and when he opened his eyes, he was gone. Well, himself as a child was gone, at least. His own reflection had returned, boxy glasses, stubbled chin and all. 

He exhaled heavily and turned away from the mirror. For just a second, he thought he’d seen Eddie in the mirror with him. 

***

Luckily for Richie, Gray Sky Flights had a direct flight from LAX to LaGuardia that morning. Richie bought the last ticket available and boarded the plane first, taking his window seat near the back of the plane. Before the plane took off, his phone pinged a text. It was from Martin. **_I arranged a driver to pick you up from LaGuardia when you land, and I booked you a hotel room at Graham’s, it’s in Manhattan. Text me when you land._ **

Richie breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for Martin’s planning skills. He took care of things he knew Richie would never even think about. 

***

The flight was a little less than 5 hours, due to the clear weather at both LAX and LaGuardia. His bag had been light enough that he didn’t need to check it, so he simply grabbed it from the overhead bin and walked briskly to the front of the airport. 

A tall, husky man in a vest stood beside a long black limo, holding a sign that read: RICHIE TOZIER.

“Hi,” Richie said, walking up to him. 

“Mr. Tozier!” The man smiled and shook his hand. “I’m Peter! Welcome to New York!” He spoke so enthusiastically, Richie thought his nose might start bleeding. 

“Thanks,” Richie smiled politely, reaching for the door handle. 

“Oh no, allow me!” Peter smiled, opening the door and taking Richie’s bag. “We’ll get going in just one second!” Peter assured him, closing the car door and walking around the back of the limo to put Richie's bag and the sign with his name on it in the trunk. 

***

The ride to the hotel was pretty fast, and the day was mild, so Richie rolled down his window a little to take in the city. He rarely went to New York, as he didn’t like the claustrophobic nature of the city, but it was actually kind of nice. The end of August had brought the changing leaves to the streets of Manhattan. 

“Business or pleasure?” Peter asked from the front seat. 

“I’m sorry?” Richie pulled his gaze away from the window and meet Peter’s eyes in the rearview mirror. 

“Are you in town for business or for pleasure?” 

“Oh,” Richie pulled his phone out of his pocket, suddenly remembering that he’d promised to text Martin when he landed. “Uhm. I’m seeing an old friend.”

“Pleasure!” Peter smiled. 

“Yeah,” Richie mumbled. “Have you always lived in New York?” Richie asked, trying to be polite. 

“Yes, sir! Born and bred!” Peter made a turn onto a street marked ‘Cable.’ “What about you? Where are you from?”

Visions of his childhood danced through his head. Playing games at the Aladdin Theatre. Hanging out in the clubhouse with the rest of the Losers. Sitting in temple with Stanley. “I’m from Maine,” He said softly. 

“Maine!” Peter boomed. “The Pine Tree State! What a place! Whereabouts in Maine?”

“Derry,” 

“Where’s that?”

“West of Bangor. It’s pretty small.”

“Hmm, never been!” Peter made another turn. “Maybe I’ll check it out one day!”

“Maybe,” Richie agreed, although he wasn’t really paying attention. 

He had begun thinking about the kissing bridge. The day he’d carved his and Eddie’s initials on the pale wood of the guard rail. He wondered if it was still there. Sitting with the names of other lovers, on display for everyone to see. 

“Everything ok back there?” Peter asked, frowning. 

Richie realized he was crying, tears sliding down his cheeks and plopping down onto his pant legs. “Yes, I’m fine.” Richie brought his sleeve up to wipe his face. “Sorry,”

“No need to apologize.” Peter smiled at him in the rearview. “It’s ok to cry every once in a while.” Peter steered the limo onto the side of the road. “Here we are,” He said, putting the limo in park and getting out of the car. 

Graham’s was a modest looking hotel, all red brick, five stories high. Richie glanced at Eddie’s address in his phone. It was only 7 blocks away. He made a mental note to thank Martin later, for being so helpful and considerate. 

“Your bag, sir.” Peter announced, handing Richie his suitcase. 

“Thank you,” Richie dug in his pocket, producing a 20. “It was a wonderful ride,” He slipped the money into Peter’s large hand. 

“Thank you much!” Peter beamed. “And don’t hesitate to call if you ever need another ride!” 

***

Richie checked into his room and settled down for a minute, deciding to take a quick shower before heading over to Eddie’s. 

He had left LAX at 7:00 and landed at LaGuardia at 2:37, leaving him with a little over 3 hours before he had to board his plane to leave for Bangor. Mike had told everyone to meet at Jade of the Orient at 8:30 for dinner. 

After his shower, Richie walked over to Eddie’s place. It was a two story townhouse, red brick with large two pane windows. The planter boxes on the windows themselves were empty, most likely because Eddie had always had issues with pollen. 

Richie stood staring for a while, longer than he’d meant to, thinking about his friendship with Eddie. 

They’d met when they were in elementary school together, along with Big Bill and Stan the Man. They’d all hit it off really well, spending almost all of their free time hanging out at the Barrens or at the arcade or at one of their houses. It was the best time of his life, just goofing around with everyone. He was sad that he’d forgotten all about it until right then. It seemed like a completely different lifetime. 

When the door to Eddie’s house opened and Eddie stepped out, Richie tried to turn and walk away, now too nervous to speak to him, but he wasn’t fast enough. “Richie?” Eddie called. 

“Fuck,” Richie said under his breath. “Eddie?” He turned around, feigning surprise. 

“What are you doing here?” Eddie frowned. He was carrying a bag. Well, actually, four bags. Two large suitcases, a backpack and a small toiletry bag balanced on top. 

“Uhm,” Richie stuttered. Eddie looked good. Really good. His hair had gotten darker brown with age, and was clipped short, pushed off of his face. His brown eyes had smile lines around them now, and his eyebrows were furrowed together. He was wearing a maroon windbreaker over a light blue polo shirt and plain dark slacks. “I—uh.” Richie blinked hard. _Talk, you idiot!_ “I’m in town for my tour.” He managed. 

“Tour?” Eddie asked, mindlessly fidgeting with the strap on his toiletry bag. 

“Yeah, my—uh,” Richie shoved his hands in his pockets and stepped forward. “My comedy tour. I’m a standup comedian.” 

Eddie nodded slowly. “Right.” He said. “I knew that. I’ve seen you on TV before.” 

Richie smiled nervously. “Yeah, definitely.” He cleared his throat. “Do you live here?” 

“Oh,” Eddie nodded. “Yeah,” He gestured to the house behind him. “With my wife. Myra.” 

“You’re leaving for the airport.” Richie observed, nodding towards Eddie’s luggage. 

“Yeah, I am. What about you?”

“I was going to,” Richie said. “But I thought I’d stop for a drink first.”

“A drink,” Eddie said. 

“Yeah,” Richie nodded. “Would you like to join me?” 

Eddie thought for a second, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He checked his watch. “I guess I have a little time.” 

“Great,” Richie said. “Know any good bars around here?”

***

The bar Eddie chose was called “Gory’s.” It was a squatty building, crammed between a tattoo parlor and a bookstore. 

Eddie ordered a water and a martini, and Richie ordered an IPA. 

“How long have you been married?” Richie asked as Eddie sipped his drink. 

“5 years,” Eddie said. 

“How’d you meet?”

“We used to work together.” Eddie wiped condensation off of his water glass. “Where were you when Mike called?” 

Richie sighed. “I was at work. Backstage at a show. My assistant was there with me. Martin.” 

“I was on my way to a meeting,” Eddie said. “I was on the phone with Myra.” He shook his head. “I never wanted this day to come, Richie.” He sounded like he was on the verge of tears. “I sometimes have nightmares about what happened. But I just wrote it off as stupid crap that happens to everyone. I didn’t even remember Derry until Mike called me.” His breathing became ragged, so he pulled his inhaler out of his pocket and took a puff. 

Richie nodded. “I didn’t even tell Martin what’s really going on,” Richie said. “He was there with me when I got the call, but he doesn’t know who it was. How can you tell someone something like that?”

“You can’t,” Eddie said. “I didn’t tell Myra.”

Richie opened his hand and looked at his palm, at the scar that had appeared there the day before. 

Eddie took another pull off of his aspirator. 

“I don’t think I can go back there, Richie.” Eddie said softly. “I’m so scared.”

Richie reached across the table and took Eddie’s hand in his. “I’m scared too. We all are. But we made a promise.” 

Eddie pulled his hand away. He took a big gulp of air and burst into tears, burying his face in his hands and sobbing. 

“Hey, now.” Richie shushed him, sliding off of his bench and onto Eddie’s. He pulled Eddie into a hug. “It’s ok, Eds.” 

Eddie sobbed into Richie's shoulder, shaking with every breath. “I just don’t think I’m brave enough to go back, Richie.” He shook his head. “What if the leper is back? Or that fucking clown? Or what if—“ He stuttered. “What if my mother is there?”

“Your mother?” Richie gently rubbed Eddie’s shoulder. 

“She died,” Eddie sighed, taking another hit off of his aspirator. “What if It becomes her? I won’t be able to hurt her.”

“You won’t have to,” Richie promised, although he had no way of knowing that for sure. 

“I’m sorry, Rich.” Eddie pulled back and wiped his eyes. 

“It’s ok to cry every once in a while,” Richie said, thinking of Peter the Limo Driver. “You shouldn’t feel bad about feeling bad.”

“This is just so fucked.” Eddie settled back against Richie’s shoulder. “Why should we have to deal with this stupid bullshit?” He looked up at Richie, tears in his eyes. 

Richie shook his head. “I don’t know, Eds.” He said softly. 

Eddie’s face broke out into a big stupid grin. “Your eyes look huge,” He laughed. 

“Hey,” Richie frowned. “Don’t tease me, man. I’m sensitive.” 

Eddie continued to laugh, though. His head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, new happy tears mixing in with the old sad ones. “You look like a bug!” Eddie howled. 

“Beep beep, Eds.” Richie said. 

Eddie froze, his laughter falling away. “Beep beep,” He repeated. 

Richie blinked. “Yeah. Beep beep.” 

Eddie smiled again. “Beep beep,” He poked Richie in the ribs. “Put a sock in it, Trashmouth!”

“Beep beep, Eddie Spaghetti!” Richie teased him, bringing his hands up to tickle Eddie’s sides. 

“Stop!” Eddie laughed, squirming in his seat. “Beep beep!” He cried, pushing Richie’s hands away. 

Eddie pushed Richie a little too hard, knocking his hands back into his martini. “Shit,” Richie tried to catch the glass, but it tumbled over, sloshing liquid onto his shirt and pants. 

“Shit, I’m so sorry, Richie.” Eddie grabbed some napkins out of the metal dispenser and began dabbing at Richie's crotch. 

“No, it’s fine.” Richie said, mopping up the spilled drink from the table. “I’m gonna go clean up.” He pushed himself out of the booth, leaving Eddie to finish cleaning up the table. 

***

The men’s room at Gory’s was just a single stall bathroom with a toilet and a urinal tucked into the back corner, and a small sink basin against the opposite wall. Richie flipped on the light to examine himself in the mirror. 

The martini had splashed all over the bottom edge of his soft pink button down and onto the crotch of his dark wash jeans. “Goddamn it,” He mumbled, stripping off his button down and draping it over the sink. “Seriously?” He groaned, annoyed that the liquid had also soaked through to his gray undershirt. 

“Richie?” Eddie knocked softly on the door. 

“Yeah, one sec, Eds.” Richie said, sliding his belt out of the loops and tossing it on the sink along with his shirt. 

He unlocked the door and pulled it open, revealing a very guilty looking Eddie on the other side. “I’m really sorry about your shirt, Richie.” Eddie stepped into the bathroom. 

“It’s ok,” Richie closed and locked the door behind him. “Accidents happen.” He smiled at Eddie, trying to reassure him. 

“You look like you pissed your pants,” Eddie said with a smile. 

“Yeah, well.” Richie shrugged. “I was just so excited to see you.” Eddie laughed at that. “I should probably get back to my hotel, anyway. Change and get ready to go to the airport. You have to grab your bags, right?”

Eddie chewed his lip. “Yeah, I do.” He picked up Richie's discarded button down from the sink, holding it in his hands as he leaned against the basin. “I’m just nervous, Rich.” He admitted, shrugging. “I don’t really want to go back.” He crossed his arms, holding Richie’s shirt close to his chest. 

“I’ll be with you,” Richie said, stepping forward and pulling Eddie into another hug. “You don’t have to be afraid. I’ll be there. And Big Bill. And Stan the Man. And Haystack. Everyone.”

“Everyone,” Eddie mumbled into Richie’s chest. 

“Everyone,” Richie said again, pressing his face into the top of Eddie’s hair. 

“I’ll come with you to change,” Eddie said. “We can share a cab to the airport.” He pulled back and smiled. 

“Sure thing, Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie smiled back at him. 

***

They walked quickly back to Richie's hotel, trying to get out of the cold autumn air. His room was up on the 5th floor, so they took the elevator straight up. “509,” Eddie read aloud as Richie inserted his keycard. 

“Come on in,” Richie nodded towards the room, putting his keycard back into his wallet. “I’m just gonna go clean off really quick,” He said, hand resting on the bathroom door handle. 

Eddie nodded and sat down on Richie’s bed, still holding the soiled pink shirt from the bar. 

Richie closed the bathroom door behind himself and looked at his reflection in the mirror, frowning at how tired he looked. _To be fair,_ he thought, _I have been all over the goddamn country today._

He turned on the faucet and dunked a washcloth under the hot water. “Richie?” Eddie called out to him as he pulled his undershirt over his head. 

“Yeah?” Richie dabbed at his lower stomach with the cloth, droplets of water collecting on his happy trail. 

“Did you ever think about me?” Eddie asked through the door. 

“Oh, all the time, Eds.” Richie smiled, wringing out the cloth in the sink and rewetting it. “I could never forget the little loser that carried two fanny packs with him.” He laughed to himself, unbuttoning his jeans and and pushing them down his legs. “Damn,” He grumbled quietly. The martini had soaked through his pants and into his boxers as well. “Can’t I catch a break?” He sighed, looping his fingers in the waistband of his boxers to tug them down. 

Before he could take them off, the bathroom door swung open. “Jesus, Eddie.” Richie placed his hand over his heart. “You scared me, man.” 

Eddie crossed the bathroom, arms out. As Richie pulled him into another hug, he realized Eddie was crying again, his cheeks wet with tears against Richie’s bare chest. “Hey,” Richie ran his hand through Eddie’s hair. “Eds, it’s ok.” Eddie didn’t answer. He just held Richie close and cried. Richie planted his chin on top Eddie’s head. “It’s alright, Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie said again. “I’m here for you.”

Eddie pulled back to look up at Richie. “Beep beep, Richie.” He said softly. Eddie leaned up and closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Richie’s. 

Richie felt like fireworks were exploding in his stomach. He’d loved Eddie for as long as he could remember, and now his dream was coming true. Eddie was in his arms, in his room. He almost couldn’t believe it was real. 

Eddie reached up and looped his arms around the back of Richie’s neck, standing on his toes to match Richie’s height. They pulled apart for a second to allow Eddie to shrug out of his windbreaker and toss it out of the bathroom through the open bedroom door, but they were immediately back together again, lips apart, tongues sliding into each other’s mouths. Eddie tasted like the martini that had soiled Richie’s outfit earlier. Richie wished that he’d taken the time to brush his teeth when he stepped into the bathroom, as he was sure he tasted like beer. 

As they continued to kiss, Richie ran his hands up Eddie’s now bare arms, then back down to rest on his hips. 

He was grateful to feel Eddie’s cock against his upper thigh, already hard, because he was hard as well and didn’t want to seem too eager. It had been a while since he’d been with someone, and even then it had just been a quick hookup with someone he’d never see again. It was different with Eddie. He’d thought about this happening so much. From the time he was 13, he almost exclusively pictured himself with Eddie. 

He wondered absentmindedly if Eddie had ever thought the same way about him. They’d known each other so long, and they’d always been so close, surely at some point the thought of them together had crossed Eddie’s mind. Obviously it had, or Eddie wouldn’t be standing here now, sliding his hand down the front of Richie’s boxers. 

Richie moaned softly as Eddie took his cock in his hand, pumping it slowly inside his boxers. “Fuck, Eds.” He whispered. 

“Come here,” Eddie said, leaning up to catch Richie’s lips again. 

As Eddie continued to stroke him steadily, Richie reached around to unbutton Eddie’s slacks. He slid the zipper down and pushed Eddie’s pants down, watching them pool around his ankles. “Eds,” He started, pulling away. “Are you wearing Superman boxers?” 

Eddie frowned. “They’re hypoallergenic.” Richie couldn’t help but laugh at him. The whole thing was such a funny sight. Eddie with his hand down the front of Richie’s martini stained boxers, standing there in a blue polo shirt and Superman boxers. “Don’t laugh at me!” Eddie said, smiling. “You’re the one that looks like you pissed yourself!” 

“I know!” Richie replied, throwing his head back with laughter. 

“Beep beep, Richie!” Eddie said, using his free hand to reach up and pinch Richie’s nipple. 

“Ow! You fucker!” Richie began tickling Eddie’s stomach, still laughing all the while. 

“Cut it out, Rich! You know I’m ticklish!” Eddie was laughing hard now, twisting away as Richie continued to tickle his stomach and sides. 

“I know, I know.” Richie said, wrapping his arms around Eddie and picking him up. 

“Richie!” Eddie laughed as Richie spun him around. 

Still holding Eddie, Richie walked them out into the bedroom, collapsing on the bed together. They lay facing each other on the bed, their legs dangling off the edge. Richie reached up and ran his hand down Eddie’s check. “You’re so beautiful, Eds.” He told him, watching as the sun turned his eyes into pools of dark chocolate. 

Eddie smiled at that. “You think so?”

“Of course,”

Eddie pulled at a loose thread on the comforter. “Even when I carried two fanny packs?”

Richie chuckled. “Especially when you carried two fanny packs.” 

They lay together for a while in silence, Richie running his hands down Eddie’s arm. “Have you ever been with a man before?” Richie asked him. 

Eddie shook his head. “No,” He met Richie's eyes. “There was this guy I used to make out with in college. His name was Morgan. He had shaggy hair and we met at a party once.”

“You went to a party?” Richie asked, smiling. 

“I went to a few,” Eddie smiled too. “And Morgan used to go to them as well”

“What happened to you guys?”

Eddie shrugged. “We were never really together. We just made out a few times at some parties on campus. He ended up transferring to a different school and I never saw him again.”

“Did it make you sad?”

Eddie shrugged again. “Not really. You know, thinking back on it now, he kind of looked like you.” Eddie reached over and tucked Richie’s hair behind his ear. “Have you ever been with a man?”

Richie nodded, laughing. “More than a few times.”

“Does it hurt?”

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, Eds. It’s ok.”

Eddie shook his head, frowning. “I want to, Richie, I do. I’ve just never done anything like this before.”

Richie opened his arms. “Come here,” 

Eddie slid across the mattress, settling onto Richie’s chest. He sighed contently. “I love you, Trashmouth.” Eddie said, tugging lightly on Richie’s chest hair. 

“I love you too, Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the bed. 

“You’re still hard,” Eddie commented, resting his hand on Richie’s boxers. 

“Yeah,” Richie nodded. “Are you?”

“A little,” Eddie said. 

“I can fix that,” Richie rolled Eddie onto his back, climbing over top of him to straddle his thighs. Eddie pushed himself onto his elbows, watching as Richie leaned down to kiss him. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” Richie planted one last kiss on Eddie’s nose before sliding off the edge of the bed and kneeling between Eddie’s open thighs. 

He grabbed Eddie’s ridiculous fucking hypoallergenic Superman boxers by the waistband and pulled them completely off, tossing them to the side. 

Richie kissed all the way up Eddie’s leg, from his ankle to his thigh, around his stomach and over his belly button, and back down his other leg. He then sat back up and kissed both of Eddie’s hip bones, watching Eddie’s face over his glasses, looking for any indication the Eddie wanted him to stop. “Is this ok?” He asked, taking Eddie’s semi-hard cock in his hand. 

Eddie nodded, but he didn’t really look like he was paying too much attention. He was lying flat on his back, chin pointed up, eyes closed. 

Eddie moaned softly as Richie pumped his cock, eyelids fluttering, lips parted ever so slightly. 

He looked so beautiful it made Richie’s heart ache and his dick throb. 

Richie leaned down and took Eddie in his mouth, bobbing slowly, stroking himself as Eddie slid to the back of his throat, Richie's nose planted firmly in Eddie’s pubic hair. Even his fucking pubes smelled like shampoo. He might’ve laughed if he didn’t have a cock in the throat. 

“Fuck, Richie.” Eddie said softly, tangling his hands in Richie’s hair and pushing his head down. 

“Mm,” Richie said, allowing Eddie to guide his head up and down. 

“Wait, fuck, Richie.” Eddie pushed himself back up, releasing Richie’s hair from his grip. “Stop, I don’t want to cum yet.” 

“We can stop,” Richie offered, still kneeling between Eddie’s legs. 

“I don’t want to stop,” Eddie shook his head. “I want to trade places.” He slid off of the bed, kneeling next to Richie on the floor. 

“Are you sure?”

“Get up there,” Eddie urged, pushing on Richie’s shoulder. 

Richie climbed up on the bed, taking Eddie’s place as the blowjob recipient. He opened his mouth to tell Eddie that they could always switch back if he wanted, but the words died in his throat as his cock slid down Eddie’s. “Eds, Jesus.” He managed when Eddie pulled off, choking. “Don’t go so hard, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” He smiled fondly, watching as Eddie grabbed his discarded windbreaker from the floor and pulled out his inhaler, spraying it directly into his mouth. 

“Sorry,” He coughed. “I’m sure that was very unsexy.” He took another pull off of his inhaler. “I want to try again, though.”

“Just go slower,” Richie offered. “Deep-throating takes practice.”

“Slut,” Eddie teased, spraying his inhaler in his mouth one more time. 

Richie shrugged. “I spent a lot of years without you, Eds. I had to do something to pass the time.” 

“Hahaha,” Eddie resettled himself between Richie’s legs. “Let me try again,”

“Slower,” He reminded Eddie. 

Eddie nodded, stroking Richie’s cock a few times before licking a long stripe up the length of him, and then taking the head of Richie’s cock in his mouth. Eddie worked slowly this time, bobbing up and down, taking more and more of Richie in his mouth each time. As he bobbed back up, he used his hand to stroke Richie as well, his spit slicking him as he went along. 

“God, Eds, that feels so good.” He breathed out, hanging his head back. 

Eddie hummed softly around him, sending vibrations up Richie’s spine. 

“Fuck, Eddie, this is so embarrassing but you have to stop or I’m gonna cum.” 

Eddie pulled off, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Do you want to switch back?” 

“I have a better idea,” Richie slid off the bed and pushed Eddie up. “Lie on your back,” Eddie did as he was told, lying on his back with his legs hanging off the side of the bed. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” Richie said again. 

Eddie nodded, allowing Richie to pin his hands under his body. “Don’t touch yourself,” Richie said, kissing the center of Eddie’s chest. 

He made sure to keep an eye on Eddie’s expression, not wanting to hurt him or do something that made him uncomfortable. In the back of his mind, he was worried that if he did do something that Eddie didn’t like, Eddie would be too anxious to say anything for fear of upsetting Richie. 

Richie continued to watch him as he kissed his was down Eddie’s body again, planting kisses on his stomach, his hip bones, his thighs. He gently coaxed Eddie’s legs further apart, hitching his hands under Eddie’s knees to prop his legs up on the edge of the bed. Richie kissed both of Eddie’s shins and his ankles, taking one more glance at Eddie’s face for any signs of distress, before dipping his head down to plant a kiss on Eddie’s hole. 

“Fuck,” Eddie moaned out softly as Richie went on teasing him, alternating soft kisses and short licks over him. “Richie, oh my god.” 

“Mm,” Richie hummed softly, reaching up to stroke Eddie’s cock as he continued rimming him. When his hand bumped against Eddie’s, he pulled away, frowning. 

“No,” Eddie complained. “Keep going, Rich, please.”

“I told you not to touch yourself,” Richie scolded lightly, pulling Eddie’s hand away from himself and tucking it back under him. 

Eddie nodded quickly. “I won’t, just please keep going, please.”

“Keep your hands there,” Richie reminded him, kissing and lightly nipping at Eddie’s inner thigh before returning to eating him out. 

He gently pushed his tongue inside Eddie, reveling in the small moan that he let out. Richie continued pushing his tongue in and out of Eddie, reaching up to stroke him while he did so. 

Eddie let out a string of soft moans and hums, punctuated by the occasional “fuck” or “Jesus”, or Richie’s personal favorite “Richie.” He said it over and over again, like a prayer, making Richie’s own untouched cock throb between his legs. 

When Richie briefly stopped licking Eddie to slick his finger with spit, Eddie moaned out in protest. “Hang on,” Richie said, kissing Eddie’s knee cap. 

“Richie, please, ke—oh fuck,” Eddie arched his back off of the bed in pleasure as Richie carefully slid his middle finger into Eddie. 

Richie slowly moved his finger around inside of him, gently trying to work him open, and enjoying all of the noises that Eddie made. 

He let go of Eddie’s cock, bringing his now free hand down to stroke himself, at the same time he began sucking and biting at Eddie’s inner thigh, closing his eyes to just listen. 

“Oh my god, Richie that feels so good.” Eddie gasped out. 

When Richie opened his eyes, he saw that Eddie was once again stroking his own cock. “Eddie,” Richie stopped. “What did I say?” 

He released himself and and pulled his hand out of Eddie, grabbing his hand again, and once again tucking it back under him. 

“No, please don’t stop.” Eddie slid his hands out from underneath him and propped himself up onto his elbows. 

“I told you not to touch yourself,” Richie said again. “I said to keep your hands there.”

“I know, I’m sorry, it just feels so good.”

“If you cum too quickly you’re not gonna be happy, Eds.” 

“Well,” Eddie shifted on the bed. “I guess maybe you’ll just have to hold me down.” 

Richie blinked at that, shocked Eddie would even suggest being restrained. Richie leaned further up and kissed Eddie’s cheek, before collecting both of Eddie’s wrists and pinning them above him head on the mattress. “Let me know if this starts to hurt you,” Richie said. 

Eddie nodded again. “Please keep going, Richie.”

“Here, slide up.” Richie guided Eddie further onto the bed, climbing up with him. 

Now settled onto the bed rather than the floor, Richie held Eddie’s wrists above his head with one hand, and spit slicked two fingers on his other hand. Once again watching Eddie’s face, he slid two of his fingers back into Eddie. 

“Fuck.” Eddie moaned, gently straining his wrists against Richie’s grip.

Richie leaned down, kissing Eddie’s neck, his jaw, his collarbones, sucking soft marks into his pale flesh. He slowly slid his fingers in and out, working Eddie open more and more. He pulled out again, taking the time to wet another finger before pushing back into Eddie. 

“Oh god, Richie.” Eddie arched his back again, grinding his cock up against Richie’s stomach, smearing his happy trail with precum. 

“Turn over, Eds.” Richie kissed his cheek again, pulling his hand out for the final time. 

Richie gently turned Eddie onto his stomach, propping him up on his knees and holding his wrists at his lower back. Richie kissed down Eddie’s spine, spitting into his hand to lube himself up. “Stop me if I hurt you, Eddie.” He said. 

Eddie moaned loudly as a response, humming softly as Richie pressed the head of his cock to Eddie’s hole.

“Fuck, Eddie.” Richie said, slowly pushing himself in. A shudder ran through him as he sunk in all the way to the hilt, little jolts of pleasure running from the tips of his fingers all the way up to the roots of his hair. “Fuck,” He said again. Eddie was so tight and warm he had to stop for a second, worried that if he moved he’d cum in a second and this whole amazing night would be over. 

“Please, Richie.” Eddie said against the pillows, wrists turning in Richie’s hand. 

“Fuck,” Richie couldn’t think of anything else to say. He brought his free hand up to push his hair off of his forehead. His glasses were so foggy he could barely see through them, but he knew if he took them off he wouldn’t be able to see Eddie at all. 

Eddie moaned again as Richie began to move, sliding almost all the way out and back in again. He continued, slowly building up a steady pace. Eddie jostled forward each time Richie pounded into him, little moans and curses falling from his lips. “God, Richie.” He said. 

“God, I love you, Eddie.” Richie said, tangling his free hand in Eddie hair and yanking his head back. 

“Fuck!” Eddie moaned. 

Richie decided to release Eddie’s wrists, opting instead to pull Eddie up onto his knees, the length of his body pressed completely against Richie’s. 

Richie wrapped his left arm around Eddie’s chest, holding him upright, and wrapped his right hand around Eddie’s body to stroke his cock. “You’re so beautiful.” Richie whispered, kissing behind Eddie’s ear and down his neck. “I love you,” He said again. 

“I love you,” Eddie repeated, letting his head fall back against Richie’s shoulder. “God, I love you so much, that feels so fucking good, Richie.”

Richie released Eddie’s cock, using his now free hand to grab Eddie’s chin and turn him so they were facing each other. He kissed Eddie roughly, their teeth and tongues clashing. 

“Mm,” Eddie moaned, bringing his hands up to tangle them in Richie’s hair. “I want to see you,” Eddie whispered. 

“Ok, yeah.” Richie mumbled, pulling out to allow Eddie to lie down on his back again. 

Richie wrapped Eddie’s legs around his waist, spitting back into his hand to re-lube himself before sliding back in. 

Richie leaned down, keeping himself propped up on his hands as he fucked in and out of Eddie. 

“I love you,” Eddie said again, tipping his chin up to catch Richie’s mouth in a kiss. 

“I love you too, Eddie, fuck.” Richie cupped Eddie’s face with one of his hands, running his thumb over Eddie’s cheekbone. “Fuck, Eddie I’m gonna cum.”

Eddie nodded. “Me too, Rich.” 

Richie pulled his hand away from Eddie’s face to quickly stroke his cock. “Fuck, Eds.” Richie’s trusts stuttered to a stop as he came, his orgasm crashing into him. 

Eddie came soon after him, whispering “Richie, Richie, Richie,” over and over again and he came in streaks between their two bodies. 

“Oh god, Eds.” Richie mumbled, pulling out and collapsing on the bed next to Eddie. “I’m exhausted.”

“Me too,” Eddie agreed, running his hand over his own chest. “Fuck, we’re old.” He laughed. 

Richie laughed too. “Beep beep, Eddie Spaghetti.” He said, pulling Eddie onto his chest, their sweat sticking them together. 

“Beep beep,” Eddie agreed, burrowing deeper into Richie’s chest hair. 

“How the fuck are we going to make it to dinner on time?”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me anywhere! My handle for everything is @rauqthetommo! Feel free to ask me questions at all on my tumblr!


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